


A Tale of Lovers and Brothers

by mira (stellamira)



Category: Pop Music RPF, Popslash, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-03
Updated: 2007-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellamira/pseuds/mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a life on the road, Sam and JC have more in common than they know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Lovers and Brothers

There's a guy in one of Sam's economics courses who looks familiar, with a head full of curls and a foot that can't keep still, always tapping out some beat that nobody else can hear. Sam doesn't think about him much, but then he sees him at a party, and _boy_ , that guy can dance, swinging his hips like there's no tomorrow. Sam catches his eyes, and the guy smiles, then nods his head at two girls dancing a few feet away, hands on hips and shoulders of one another, laughs as if he's sharing a joke.

The guy's name is JC, Sam learns while they're kissing frantically in someone's empty dorm room, all teeth and tongues and grappling hands. The name rings a bell somewhere deep in the back of Sam's head, but he can't bring himself to care right now, with his fingers buried in JC's hair and JC biting at his mouth.

***

"Why do you want to be a lawyer?" JC asks the third night while Sam is still winding down, the condom hanging limply from his dick. He remembers Dean asking him the same thing once, just with a different emphasis and an added _of all things_.

_Because not all evil things come in demonic disguise_ , he almost says. Instead he shrugs. "I want to help people, I guess. It's kinda the family business." Well, close enough anyway. "What are _you_ doing here?"

JC scratches his stomach, glistening with sweat and come. "Got fucked over big time a few years ago. I'm not gonna let that happen to me again."

***

"I know who you are," Sam says eventually, thrusting deep and hard enough to send them both a little further up the bed each time, because he remembers now. There's this girl he sometimes goes out with, Jessica, sweet and blond and smart – Dean would like her, if only for her tits. She's got a poster of them on her wall, and she blushed and said, "Shut up," when Sam teased her about it.

"So?" JC asks, hitching his heels up higher on Sam's back.

"This is not exactly the boyband thing to do, is it?"

JC shrugs. "J's doing his own thing, I'm doing mine," he says, as if that's the only explanation why he's getting fucked by a college student right now. As if that's the only explanation why Dean's off hunting with his dad while Sam's in a bed with JC.

***

He likes Jessica. He knows she's his shot at a picket fence, but he lets JC open him up and fuck him anyway.

"Shit, you're tight," JC pants, the pendant around his neck swinging back and forth. Sam closes his eyes, trying not to think about Dean, and doesn't tell JC that he's been a virgin this way, until now.

***

"I have a brother," he tells JC one night, out of the blue, but doesn't add how Sam misses him so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. "He'd hate you. Your music, anyway."

"I've got four. And a real one," JC says, angling his body toward Sam's. "What's your brother doing?"

"The other family business."

"There's more than one?"

Sam thinks of skinwalkers and hellhounds, of demons that pin people to the ceiling. "Not really."

***

"We used to think it was me and him against the world." He picks at the label of the beer bottle JC sneaked in, the two of them sitting on Sam's bed hip to hip. He remembers days and nights in the Impala, back when Sam's life was a different horror movie every week, Dean and him building a nest in the backseat, huddling together so tightly Sam felt so small he thought he had to burst out or keep shrinking until he was gone.

"We used to think it was us against the music business. That was before we sold two million copies in a week." JC laughs. "What happened?"

Sam shrugs. "Too much time on the road. I wanted to take a break, him and my dad didn't."

"Yeah, I know how that goes." The beer bottles click quietly against each other as JC takes Sam's out of his hand and sets both on the nightstand, then leans in and kisses Sam. "C'mon."

***

"Sing me something," Sam demands, hands on JC's ass, spreading the cheeks apart. Dean sometimes sang to him when they were younger, hummed Metallica or Led Zeppelin, made up dirty lyrics to make Sam laugh when he didn't know the real ones.

He expects some cheesy pop song, but instead JC sings about days going by and things getting better, voice hitching when Sam slides his fingers up in JC's hole. He's lying, anyway. Days are going by, and Sam is still a kicked-out refugee and there are countless things out in the world that JC can't even _dream_ about, a new monster under each bed. Dean hasn't called him for weeks now, not after Sam yelled into the phone that he wasn't coming back, so stop asking.

"That's not one of your songs, is it?" Sam asks when JC settles back on Sam's cock, his legs twisting into positions Sam didn't think were possible to get him as deep as he can.

JC shakes his head, wet curls flying. "I wrote some solo stuff, but I don't know if I'm ready to do it on my own yet."

***

He sees Jessica in between fucking JC, feeds her some lie about how he needs to study and hasn't got time for a date at the moment.

She smiles at him. "Maybe some other time, then."

Dean still hasn't called, and after Sam gets his voicemail for the fourth time, he stops trying. Pastor Jim tells him Dean's okay, and his father, too, and would Sam like him to talk some sense into them?

"No," Sam says, hanging up.

JC comes by an hour later, and Sam sucks him off against the door before JC even has the chance to say hello.

***

JC talks about his brothers as if he's talking about lovers when he's deep inside Sam, just filling him, unmoving, recounts fond memories in hotel rooms, vans and busses.

Sam's memories of life on the road all begin and end with Dean. Sometimes they end with Dean holding him up the only thing that was keeping him conscious, _c'mon, Sammy, dammit_ , sometimes with Sam's grip on the gash in Dean's arm so tight that Dean was whimpering.

JC wraps an arm around Sam's stomach, hauling him up onto his hands and knees, starts moving, and Sam comes jerking himself off, head hanging down.

***

One week before the quarter ends JC says it's not working out for him so he's dropping out. He shrugs. "I don't really belong here, anyway."

Sam nods. Once he knew what to look for, he noticed the shy little glances of people – mostly girls – in the cafeteria and hallways, the openly contemptuous glares of some guys.

JC wants to record an album, see if he can make it without the others. "I figure I can either do it now or regret it for the rest of my life."

On their last evening JC pulls his mouth off and says, "Call me if you've got some time and we'll meet up."

"Yeah," Sam says, but he knows he'll delete JC's number in a few days.

JC finishes him off and swallows before he kisses Sam and scrambles off the bed. "I should get going, Tyler's picking me up," he says, pulling up his pants.

Sam lies on his bed naked for a while after JC has left, thinking about the things he regrets in his life, about Dean saying, _pick up your bag and get a move on, Sam_ , then picks up his phone from the nightstand and dials.

 

End.


End file.
